Harry Potter and the Doesn't Have Homework because He Killed Voldemort
by Happy Dickfart
Summary: Harry Potter has a gun. He may also desire a May/December relation of one variety, or another.


Harry Potter and the Doesn't Have to do Homework because He Killed Voldemort, by Dickfart

"It's a wizard gun, Harry," said Dumbledore, as he shot the second horcrux. "I keep it tucked in my wizard britches. One could say I've got a whole firing squad beneath my robes, if you know what I mean."

"Er, right," said Harry, whose awkward shoulders shrunk and greasy acne glistened in the moonlight. He just kind of hung back as Dumbledore took out the third horcrux, then the fourth, then the fifth. They just popped in and out, and flew about. Not a care in the world. Destroying Voldemort's soul efficiently and swiftly, one bullet at a time.

"And now, Harry. You must die."

"What?"

Dumbledore pushed Harry off his broom and into the wilderness, while Dumbledore hunted down Voldemort and Nagini. He killed that fucking snake with his gun, and then he hopped from his broom two hundred feet in the air and landed on both feet, the ground giving way under him in a brilliant crater. He threw off his robes, and for an old timer he sure was chiseled like Zeus.

"Fool! I am the most powerful wizard," said Voldemort.

"Ah, you wish. Unlike you, muggles have a few tricks up their sleeves," Dumbledore whipped out twin Firebolt Glock 26's. "It's called a gun!" He then showered Voldemort in avada kedavra bullets, a mixture of magic and regular bullet for mass efficiency murder. Voldemort had been turned to swiss cheese by the end of it, but instead of falling to his death, Voldemort belted out a hearty laugh.

"It can't be..." said Dumbledore, horrified. One of the horcruxes was...?

"Professor Dumbledore, you effing git. You sodding tosser! You fucking wanker! You could have killed me!" Harry yelled, crawling out from the brush. Both of his legs were broken, his glasses were broken, and he had blood running down his forehead.

"Harry, my boy, it's nothing personal, but I needed you dead. You see-"

"Still your tongue, old man," said Snape, appearing from the shadows. "I will blow you sky high."

"Oh, my boy, Severus. My Sevvy-wevvy-poo," said Dumbledore, and he inched up to Snape's little greasy ear and whispered. "And as the muggles say, 'that's what SHE said'!"

"CRUCIO!" said Snape, who didn't get the joke at all. Dumbledore writhed in pain, and Harry puked up some blood.

"You show that gormless, barmy nutter not to fuck with us, Professor Snape," said Harry in an agonized gasp.

"For every rib that has punctured your lugs, I shall detract a hundred points from Gryffindor," said Snape with a slimy smirk.

"Oh, well never mind, then. Professor Snape. More like Professor Plonker. Professor Arsehole. Professor Slag..."

"Harry, Voldemort is recovering," said Dumbledore through supreme pain and agony. "If you don't die, this could be the end of us all. I thought you understood that, Harry."

"Well, yes, but you caught me off guard, professor," said Harry, standing on his feet despite his broken legs. Hey, it's the Boy Who Lived, OK? "All I've ever wanted in life was a little control. A little choice over my own destiny."

"Oh Harry," said Dumbledore. "You could live to be ten times my age and never achieve that."

"Tell me about it," sand Snape. "If I had control over the events in my life, you and I would have a much different... relation to one another, Mr. Potter."

"Erm," said Harry, frowning, blushing, and rubbing himself awkwardly.

"NOT LIKE THAT, YOU TWAT!" Snape broke his cruciatus curse, crashing a drooling, twitching Dumbledore who may or may not have voided his bowels and lost feeling in the left side of his face forever.

"You're a real nutter, Severus," said Dumbledore, who was coughing up smoke and blood. "A dodgy chav. A twitty scrubber. An arse-licking knob head."

"In your nighttime fantasies, mayhap," said Snape Alan Rickmanly. He pulled out his wand and brandished it like a sword. "Now if you lazy sods would piss off I could hold off the Dark Lord."

"Don't, Severus. You'll be killed!" said Dumbledore.

"No, he won't," said Harry, holding one Firebolt Glock 26 to his head. "I don't want to live in a world where Professor Snape eats arse." After that, he shot himself.

"Now's our chance," said Dumbledore, grabbing Snape's wand with both hands from behind. "Severus!"

"Yes, Headmaster," said Snape, pressing his buttcrack to Dumbledore's thigh. 3-2-1.

"KAA-MEE-HAA-MEE..."

"Dragon Ball Z? Really? That preppy poser shit?" said Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way. Then Harry stabbed her with one of his ribs. "Butt Vampire! Why?"

"Because goths love death."

"Please, death is totally lame," said Enoby, and then she died.

"HAA!" said Dumbledore and Snape, sending a blast of death hurdling toward Voldemort.

"You daft ninnies should have used your projectile boom doodad," said Voldemort, unable to dodge, or deflect the blast, but he could still hold it. "Not batting on a full wicket, are you, Albutts Dumbledork?"

"Fuck you," said Dumbledore. He sent out more life energy and magic to strengthen the blast, but it still couldn't pierce Voldemort's defenses.

"We need more power," said Snape. Then he noticed Harry alive and well, if splattered with the tinniest of blood stains, but who was counting? "Potter!"

"What?" said Harry, lifting up a bag of floo powder. It was on a dead Death Eater. There couldn't be a spot to teleport too far away.

"Listen, Potter. I don't know why you aren't still dead and I don't care. Cast Avada Kedavra on the Dark Lord. It's the only way we'll break through his defenses."

"Sod off, twat," said Harry, walking away with the floo powder.

"Potter, please," said Snape. Please was not a word Snape ought to have been capable of, yet there they are.

"Listen, you mangy bell end. I have had enough of you teachers, and your war, and your prophesy, and your past conflicts with my parents, and your... your homework..."

Back at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger got a deep sense of loathing for Harry. It went as fast as it came, and it may have just been a bad dream, because she knew Harry wasn't some two hundred miles away talking shit about HOMEWORK.

Back at wherever the fuck Harry, Snape, and Dumbledore were, Voldemort was gaining the upper hand, and Harry was waiting for his demands to be met.

"And no Potions homework ever again, and no shitty DADA teacher, and spell that makes it rain on Ron and Seamus whenever their chronic masturbating wakes me up, and less hemorrhoids for Uncle Vernon. The man my have abused and neglected me and scarred me for life, but at least I was never his tool of WAR."

"FINE. Whatever you want, Potter. Shall I warm you up a hot bath while we're at it? Massage your tense shoulders? Stick suppositories into your hurt bum?"

"Stop coming on to me! It's creepy!" said Harry.

"Get over yourself, Potter." said Snape.

"Both of you, concentrate," said Dumbledore.

"I'm getting bored!" said Voldemort.

"Dirty old tossers," said Harry. He aimed Dumbledore's Firebolt Glock 26 at Voldemort and said, "I may be a puppet of dirty old people who worship and despise me, but I've decided I'm going to kill you for one reason and one reason only."

"And what might that be, Potter?" Voldemort growled.

Harry shot him before he could answer. The magic bullet ripped through his skull, and the explosion amplified the power of Snape and Dumbledore's attack, sending a Dark Lord rain of blood upon them all, except for Enoby. She missed it because she's DEAD.

Harry blew pretend smoke away from the magic gun, did a lame pose, and said, "You killed my parents. More importantly, you don't have a fucking nose!"

"That's TWO reasons, you piss pot!" said Snape. "Ten points from Gryffindor!"

"Oh, Severus. Go easy on the boy. He came to Hogwarts to learn witchcraft and wizardry, not mathematics."

"I'm still mad at you," said Harry with a grimace.

"Well, of course you are," said Dumbledore. "You've barely begun to shave and you're already at the front line, destroying Voldemort, saving the day."

"I suppose," said Harry. "Though that was positively anti-climatic. I've not broken a sweat since the whole dying and coming back to life thing."

"I say, how was it?"

"None of your fucking business," said Harry, stone-faced. He then turned to Snape and handed him a bottle of pills. "I will take you up on your kind offer to stick pills up my arse, though."

"Your father said the same thing once," said Snape, and once more Harry could feel his innards shrivel up. "He once had a loud shag with Sirius Black, in both human and dog form. Yes, regular old uphill gardener, that one. Your mother wouldn't have stayed with him forever. She was just trying to get back at me for being...?"

"... Racist?" said Harry.

"Ten more points from Gryffindor. And don't think my earlier remark about the ribs doesn't apply."

"Go fuck yourself, you glorified rectal collapse," Harry uttered.

"Enough quibble. We must go," said Dumbledore, pulling out a leash. He attached it to Snape's collar, and the gaunt, greaseball professor got on his hands and knees. Had he a tail, he may or may not have been wagging it. "Ready the floo powder, Potter."

"Ready when you are," said Harry.

They all transported to Hogsmeade, where they went their separate ways.

"I'm proud of you, Harry," said Dumbledore, giving the young wizard hero a hug. Then he whispered, "you'll get ten thousand points to Gryffindor and top marks for your 6th and 7th years for all your efforts."

"I'm still mad at you," said Harry, more softly this time. "But that'll do for now."

"Potter," said Snape with a nod.

"Well, you living, breathing slime bucket. Should I ever develop a taste for unwashed old twats like yourself, I reckon you and I shall get a leg up in our relationship." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I've fornicated with your mum," Snape lied. He was a virgin up until the age of 42. That's when Dumbledore jackhammered his dick into the potion master's magic hole, making noises that put mandragoras to shame. Professor Trelawney hasn't been the same since.

"Piss off," said Harry, who drank so much butterbeer that night that he forgot who he was, returned to his dorm without any clothes on, and couldn't stop farting for five weeks straight.

But hey, at least Voldemort was dead, and Harry didn't have to do homework ever again!

The End

Want to hear a joke? Homework. HA HA HA! Gets me every time. Homework. HOMEWORK. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HAHA HA HA HAHA HA HA HA HA HA


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